


Daughters

by jeanniebillroth



Series: This Life [3]
Category: Cagney and Lacey
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Fic, F/M, Family, Female Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Motherhood, Other, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeanniebillroth/pseuds/jeanniebillroth
Summary: It's Alice Christine Lacey's fourth birthday, and Mary Beth remembers how another little girl came into their lives not too long ago.
Relationships: Christine Cagney/David Keeler
Series: This Life [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882849
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More from the alternate universe. This installment will have 4 or 5 chapters.

"Very gentle, Alice. Like that. Yes. Good job."

Alice sticks the tip of her tongue out in concentration as she caresses the baby’s cheek. “Ella is happy,” she says and looks up at Mary Beth who is sitting next to her on the sofa.

“Yes, I think she is.”

Ella gurgles and continues to chew on her little fist, drooling all over it in the process. She is the cutest thing, with her gray eyes, chubby cheeks, and shock of light red hair.

Ever since Chris and David came through the door with their daughter, Alice has been fascinated. Being the youngest in the Lacey household, she hasn't spent much time around babies before, and everything about Ella and caring for her is incredibly interesting to her.

Much more interesting, in fact, than her presents and the chocolate cake, both of which Alice couldn’t be done with fast enough so she would be excused from the table and allowed to go look at Ella, who was still asleep in her car seat – remarkably unbothered by the birthday excitement around her.

Lucky for Alice, Ella woke up shortly after the adults finished their cake, and she has been in an agreeable mood ever since, letting Alice hold her in her lap and tolerating her eager displays of affection like a champ.

“She is so little.”

“Well, she is not yet four months old. You were that little too when you were a baby.”

Alice contemplates this for a moment. “And Harvey and Michael?”

“They, too. All of us. Even Daddy and I.”

Alice giggles. It must be hard to imagine. “Why?”

“We talked about that, remember? Babies grow in their mommy’s tummy. Until there isn’t any more room, and that’s when they come out.”

“I was in your tummy.” Alice points at Mary Beth’s stomach.

“Yes, you were, sweetheart.”

“And Ella?”

“Ella was in Aunt Chris’s tummy.”

“And then she came out.”

“That’s right.”

Alice nods importantly and pets Ella’s head, but right then, the baby’s patience seems to have reached a sudden end. Ella squirms, squinches up her face, and a split-second later she lets out a heartbreaking wail.

There is an expression of almost comical horror on Alice’s face and she jerks her hand away as if from a hot stove. “Mommy!”

"Alice, it’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Mary Beth calmly reassures her. She lifts Ella from her daughter’s lap. “Right, Ella? Alice was very nice to you.”

Ella is screaming in earnest now.

“Why is she crying?” asks Alice as she climbs off the sofa and retreats to a safe distance a couple of feet away.

“Maybe she is hungry, or she needs a new diaper, or she just wants her mommy and daddy. Like when you want to cuddle with Daddy or me?”

Alice looks a little skeptical.

“Do you want to go upstairs and get Aunt Chris? She’ll know what to do. I think she’s in Michael’s room.”

Always happy to be a good helper, Alice nods eagerly and runs off and up the stairs.

With Harvey Jr. no longer living at home, the torch he used to carry for Christine seems to have passed to his younger brother. When Chris asked Michael about his newest science club project, a computer program for which he won second place state-wide, his ears turned flaming red and he offered to show it to her on his computer.

Sometimes, when she comes home and finds Michael lounging on the sofa watching television or fiddling with a computer part at the dining room table, Mary Beth wants to pinch herself. Almost gone is her playful little boy, replaced by a kind and serious young man who does the dishes without having to be asked, who has taught himself how to program the computer, and who will soon be off to college.

At least she hopes that he will choose college.

Mind you, she is so proud of Harvey Jr., of his conviction and bravery. But whenever she watches international news or Harvey reads her something from the paper, her chest tightens painfully because she knows that her oldest son won’t be stationed at Camp Lejeune forever.

Before long, Alice Christine will be the only child left in the house, the only child she can still protect from the world. And Alice, too, is growing up fast. She got a big girl bed for her fourth birthday, she wants to pick out her own clothes, and each morning she demands that her daddy braid her long blond hair a certain way before she leaves for daycare.

The crying baby in Mary Beth’s arms is more living proof of how time is just racing by – and that life is full of surprises.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Little Ella here was certainly not what Mary Beth suspected was going on when something began to feel off about Christine near the end of last February.

Since her father’s passing two years earlier, Chris had come such a long way. Not only had she admitted to and dealt with her own alcoholism, she had also survived being raped, faced that bastard Brad Potter in court, and somehow, improbably, through it all, allowed her romance with David Keeler to blossom into a relationship, and one that seemed to make her happy at that.

As far back as she could remember, Mary Beth had never seen Chris more stable and even-tempered.

Which made it all the more jarring when she slipped so suddenly. She started coming in late most mornings, and when she finally made it to the squad room, she looked like death warmed over, with a mood to match. Mary Beth and the other detectives soon learned that it was best to leave Sergeant Cagney alone for the first half hour or so until she found her bearings.

And while she usually perked up over the course of the day, there was an undercurrent to her behavior that made Mary Beth nervous. Chris was enthusiastic and pushy one minute, withdrawn and sensitive the next. There were whole afternoons when she seemed perfectly serene, as if nothing could touch her. And then she would lose it at the slightest provocation from a fellow detective or a suspect.

Yes, Chris had always been the hot dog in their partnership, short-tempered and volatile long before her drinking got out of hand around the time of Charlie’s death. But these traits were now dialed up to eleven, as they had only been once before, and Mary Beth began to fear that what she was looking at here were the first rounds of another downward spiral.

Of course, she knew better than to put pressure on her partner. She only made a couple of careful attempts to get through to Chris; in the car during a stakeout because she kept nodding off in the passenger seat, even though it was broad daylight; at lunch when Chris ordered nothing but soda and Mary Beth realized that she was hardly eating anything during the day; alone in the locker room when she saw how unsteady Chris was on her feet after putting on her shoes.

Each time, Chris was quick to give her a somewhat plausible answer, blaming an oncoming headache, trouble sleeping, or last night’s Chinese food before changing the subject or escaping from the situation altogether.

But Mary Beth knew her partner too well to believe these excuses, and as the weeks went by and nothing really changed, her suspicion hardened.

The only thing that gave her pause were the small pieces that didn’t quite fit the puzzle. The sloppiness and reckless behavior that had accompanied Chris’s first slow-motion tumble towards rock bottom were conspicuously absent this time. On the contrary, she was impeccably dressed every day, she looked and smelled clean, and if anything, she was more careful than before, keeping within the speed limit, wearing her seatbelt without complaint, and Mary Beth noticed more than once how she seemed to shy away from physical situations, letting the uniforms handle a perp or hesitating for the fraction of a second before giving chase.

Then again, maybe Chris simply felt more self-conscious about her drinking and tried to conceal it better, maybe she was drinking less frequently, or less altogether, or at different times of the day, or vodka instead of scotch, or-

At the end of the day it didn’t matter, drinking was drinking, and if Chris had really fallen off the wagon, she was putting both of their lives and careers on the line. Mary Beth had promised herself long ago that she would not let Christine do that to their partnership – and to her – a second time.

She knew what she would have to do to make good on this promise, and she didn’t like it one bit, but wasn’t this the exact lesson that Chris had refused to learn about Charlie?

Sometimes, letting the other person go was the only way to save yourself.  
  
  
***  
  
  
For somebody this small, Chris’s daughter has an impressive set of lungs, Mary Beth can’t help but notice as she walks back and forth in front of the sofa, rocking Ella and rubbing her back. “It’s okay, honey. Your mom is on her way. I know.”

David is out of earshot, still in the backyard with Harvey, probably living vicariously through him by learning all about the neighborhood association, about how to install a swing set or where to get a good bargain on a new barbecue.

It’s a little funny – David, Chris, and Ella live on the fifth floor without a balcony and so far, Chris has shot down all of David’s attempts to sell her on life outside of Manhattan. But knowing David, he hasn’t given up on his suburban dream just yet. He is as persistent as Chris is stubborn, and who knows? Chris has surprised her before, so maybe one day Mary Beth will go to visit them in that rambling house in Jersey they talked about after Chris turned down David’s first proposal.

“Hi, Alice,” Mary Beth hears Chris’s voice in the upstairs hallway. “Are you coming to get me?”

“Ella is crying,” Alice informs her.

“Sounds to me like she’s hungry,” Chris says as she comes down the stairs with Alice walking a couple of steps ahead of her. "At least I hope you are, sweetheart!” she adds, not entirely serious, while holding both hands up in front of her chest and shooting Mary Beth a slightly desperate look.

Oh, she remembers that feeling.

Mary Beth hands Chris her daughter and watches as she gives Ella a kiss on the cheek and pats her bottom. The screaming instantly dies down a notch. “Sweet pea, what’s wrong? Are you wet? No, I didn’t think so. You’re hungry, huh? We’re going to do something about that. And then we’ll both feel better.”

Chris turns to Mary Beth. “Where can I go with her?”

“Take our bedroom if you want to. We still have the rocking chair in there.”

“Great, thanks,” Chris says. And to Ella: "See, we're getting right to it." She hoists her up to one shoulder and grabs the diaper bag from under the coat rack with her free hand.

As she sees her walking towards the stairs, Alice pipes up: “What are they doing?”

“Aunt Chris is going to feed Ella.”

“In the bedroom?”

“Babies don't eat food from the fridge yet.”

“What do they eat?”

“Do you remember the book that we read? Babies drink milk that comes from their mommy.”

Alice seems to remember, and she is clearly intrigued. “Can I see?”

Oh.

“We'll have to ask Aunt Chris about that,” Mary Beth is quick to react.

Alice bounds up the stairs and Mary Beth has to hurry to catch up with her before she can walk in on Chris and create an awkward situation.

“Wait here with me,” she says when they arrive in front of the closed bedroom door.

“Chris?”

“What is it?”

“Alice has a question.”

“Come in.”

Mary Beth opens the door and peeks into the room. Chris sits in the rocking chair with Ella in her arms, already nursing.

“Alice would like to know if she can watch a little bit while you feed Ella. But it’s totally fine if you’re not-”

Chris looks surprised for a second but catches herself quickly. “Uh, sure. I guess. Does she know what she's in for?”

“We talked about it. Right, Alice? And we read a book.”

“Yes!” Alice confirms.

“You did?” Chris sounds amused. “Well, alright. Come on in, Alice. You can come too, Mary Beth.” Chris winks at her.

Mary Beth walks Alice inside and steers her towards the bed where she sits down and draws her daughter onto her lap. Alice snuggles into her embrace, suddenly shy.

Chris looks down at Ella who is drinking greedily. “Yeah, you’re hungry. Didn’t I know it.”

On Mary Beth’s lap, Alice has grown still. She stares with her mouth slightly agape.

"That is how you used to eat, too,” Mary Beth says quietly, brushing back a strand of hair that has escaped Alice’s tousled ponytail.

“Nooo,” Alice whispers.

“Oh, you did,” Mary Beth assures her. “And Harvey and Michael, too.”

Alice laughs, and Chris looks up at the other mother-daughter duo, smiling. “Pretty wild, huh?”

Indeed.

Mary Beth has seen Chris nurse Ella before, but it strikes her every time how peaceful and relaxed Chris looks with her baby. As if she has never done anything else in her life.

Again, Mary Beth feels like she might have to pinch herself.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Things finally came to a head one afternoon at the beginning of April.

The two women had spent most of the morning engaged in pointless bickering matches over how to proceed on a penny-ante B&E case that was going nowhere (Chris), but still needed to be investigated because that is what the police are there for (Mary Beth).

By the time lunch rolled around, they had agreed to disagree on the matter, and to shelve the case until tomorrow. So as not to risk their precarious truce, they decided to get out of each other’s hair for the rest of the day and tend to some paperwork.

Mary Beth was refilling her mug at the coffee urn and glanced over to where Chris sat at her desk with her head in her hands, ostensibly reading a file. But from where she was standing, Mary Beth could see that her eyes were closed. An untouched cup of coffee sat next to her elbow.

She wondered how Chris was getting away with it at home. She and David were practically living together, and whatever was going on with her, she could not possibly manage to hide it from him. Then again, Mary Beth knew how much David loved Chris. If she was back on the bottle, he would try to get her to stop, and if she didn’t want to or if she couldn’t, he would not leave her, just like he hadn’t given up on her the first time around.

The memories could still turn Mary Beth’s stomach.

A frantic David on the phone, begging her to leave her own promotion party to come and help with Christine. Finding him at Chris’s loft in his shirtsleeves, helpless, desperate to make it better somehow. Chris herself, cowering on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table in a drunken stupor, staring up at them through half-crazed eyes. Her dirty pajamas and unwashed hair. For as long as she lived, Mary Beth would not forget the smell of the room, the mixture of stale beer, molten chocolate, and vomit.

She tried not to think back to that night too often.

And when she couldn’t help it, she always made a conscious effort to include the events of the next day: how she finally managed to confront Christine, held her as she sobbed and sobbed, made coffee and tried to clean the place up while Chris was in the shower, called around to find the nearest AA meeting, felt Chris’s cold, clammy hand in hers as they sat next to each other in a circle of chairs in some church basement.

That night, Mary Beth had dropped Chris off at her loft, unsure of what the future would bring. Truth be told, she didn’t even fully trust that her partner would show up to work after the weekend. But there she had been on Monday morning – looking rough and sheepish and clearly unsure of where they stood. “Partner,” Mary Beth had simply said as she handed her a styrofoam cup full of coffee, and Chris had accepted the hot beverage, and that had been that.

Mary Beth was back at her typewriter in order to focus on another long overdue DD5 when she heard Chris open and close her desk drawer. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as she got up, slung her purse over her shoulder, and walked past their desks without a word, striding briskly in the direction of the Jane.

Dread settled in the pit of Mary Beth’s stomach. She flashed on the morning a couple of weeks after Charlie’s funeral when she had walked in on Chris in the locker room and caught her taking a swig from a hip flask. From then on, things had gone downhill fast.

Mary Beth swiveled around in her chair, stood, and drew back her shoulders.

It was now or never. Jordan and Isbecki were in court today, so they would be free to have it out in the relative privacy of the ladies’ room if necessary.

No matter how hard Chris fought it, she would get her to fess up.


	2. Chapter 2

When she opened the door to the restroom, Mary Beth was prepared for immediate confrontation, but Chris was nowhere to be seen. Then she heard unmistakable noises from one of the stalls.

“Chris?” Mary Beth walked up to the door and knocked softly. “Are you okay?”

Chris muttered something unintelligible and Mary Beth debated briefly whether she should leave her alone while she was throwing up but opted against it. Tough luck.

It took a while for the retching and heavy breathing to stop. Finally, Mary Beth heard Chris spit a couple of times and then the flush of the toilet.

The stall door swung open and out came Christine, white as a sheet. “What are you still doing here?” she asked weakly and walked past Mary Beth to the sinks.

Mary Beth watched as Chris produced a small bottle of mouthwash from her purse and nipped at it before opening the tap and rinsing her mouth with water. “Chris, what’s going on?”

Chris spat and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “This is non-alcoholic. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not interested in the mouthwash.”

“It must’ve been the sandwich. I thought the mustard smelled off.”

“Don’t give me that!” Anger bubbled up inside Mary Beth. “You don’t have food poisoning, Christine! I had the same lunch as you. And you took barely three bites of that sandwich. You’ve been acting all moody and weird for weeks, you look awful – I’m sorry, but it’s true – and when I try to talk to you, you lie to my face. That’s no way to be a partner!”

A hurt look flashed across Chris’s features. She opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it before any words came out.

Mary Beth tried again. “Chris, if something is wrong, I want to help you. But you have to talk to me.”

Chris turned her hands over in the sink and let water run over her wrists before shutting off the tap. Then she tore some paper towels from the dispenser. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Mary Beth crossed her arms in front of her chest and moved in on her partner.

“That’s not what I meant. You’re right, okay? I’m not feeling well,” Chris said in a conciliatory tone. “But it’s probably not what you think.”

She gave Mary Beth a strange half-smile, but Mary Beth was not having it.

“Oh? Do you want to know what I think!? From where I’m standing it looks like you’re drinking. Forget the mouthwash, I mean for real.” There was no point in pussyfooting around the issue. “And I gotta tell you, if that’s what it is, we’ll have to have a very serious conversation about what this means for you and me going forward. Not to mention how irresponsible-“

“Mary Beth. I promise you: I’m not drinking!” Chris interrupted her. Some color had returned to her cheeks, and she looked at Mary Beth urgently.

“Then what is it? I’m not letting you leave before you tell me.” Mary Beth took a couple of steps in the direction of the door to underscore her point.

Chris pursed her lips and raised her hands in a gesture of defeat. Then she looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. When she turned towards Mary Beth again, she seemed resolved.

“Alright. There is something I haven’t told you. Okay? And maybe I should have. Considering that you know a lot more about all of this than I do.” Her hands described vague circular shapes in the air.

“All of what, Chris? I don’t know what you’re trying to say here. But you’re starting to scare me. Spit it out already.”

What other explanations were there? If Chris wasn’t drinking, was she sick?

“Do me a favor and sit down first. I don’t want to have to scrape you off the floor,” Chris said awkwardly and gestured towards the bench next to the door.

Mary Beth sat down, still at a loss. Her partner’s expression was unreadable as she threw away the used paper towels and came to sit next to her.

Chris cleared her throat and began to rummage around in her purse. She fished out something that looked like a postcard and handed it to Mary Beth with the picture side facing down.

“Promise me you won’t scream.”

Mary Beth accepted the piece of paper and turned it over. She recognized the image immediately.

“Christine!” She looked at her partner and back at the picture and then back at Chris, who just nodded.

“Surprise,” she said, her voice cracking.

Mary Beth clasped her free hand over her mouth. She looked at the picture again. There were so many questions swirling around in her head. How could she have missed this? She took her hand back down.

“I don’t know what to say. Oh my God. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Chris said, and Mary Beth saw that she was fighting tears.

“Aww, come here.” She drew her partner into a hug and felt wetness from her own eyes spill over onto her cheeks as they embraced. Chris’s shoulders began to shake, and Mary Beth hugged her harder. When they let go of each other, both women were wiping tears from their eyes.

“So – tell me everything. I can’t believe it. How far along are you?”

“Almost eleven weeks,” Chris said and pointed at the ultrasound picture. “That was on Monday.”

“Oh!” No wonder Chris hadn’t been acting like herself all this time.

“David and I wanted to wait until I’m out of the woods. You know, three months. But I’m glad you know now.”

“Chris, I’m so sorry I gave you such a hard time.” Mary Beth thought back to every snippy reply and exasperated look she had given her partner when all along Chris had probably felt pretty miserable.

“Hey, I don't blame you. I know what it must look like,” Chris said.

“If I’d known- I just didn’t expect this at all. How did you- I mean, I thought you and David-“

After David had proposed for the second time, Chris had finally said yes, but only to the getting married part. One night on a stakeout, she had talked Mary Beth through a long list of reasons why she thought that she should not have children: Her career aspirations, her commitment issues, her difficult relationship with her own mother, her alcoholism, and finally her age. Chris felt that it would hurt David more if they tried and it didn’t work than if they didn’t try at all.

Now Mary Beth was dying to find out what had led Chris to change her mind.

Chris shrugged. “We slipped up last summer. Nothing happened, but we had to wait for two weeks, and somehow it got me thinking again. I don’t know. It didn’t feel so bad. The idea, I mean. Maybe being pregnant. Having a kid together. So … we decided not to prevent anything. And here we are.” She put both of her palms flat on her abdomen.

Mary Beth laughed, still processing. “That’s good news, Chris. Very surprising. But such good news.”

Chris’s fingers were playing with a loose thread on her bulky wool sweater.

“Please don’t say anything to the others, okay?” She took a deep breath and continued very quietly. “If something happens, I don’t want to have to explain anything.”

“Of course. I understand. Really, I do.” Mary Beth took her partner’s hand and squeezed it.

Chris squeezed back and exhaled audibly. “Thank you. Obviously, I can’t hide it forever.”

She lifted the hem of her sweater, exposing the waistband of her jeans. The top button was undone, and a hair tie was looped around it and through the buttonhole, creating a little more room. Still, it looked like a snug fit.

“Getting too tight, huh?” Mary Beth said.

“Yeah. Half of them I can’t wear at all anymore.” Chris let the sweater drop again. “I just want to wait a little while longer.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Mary Beth squeezed her hand again. “But you’re okay?”

Chris nodded. “The doctor says everything looks good with the baby, and I’m healthy. Older than he would like, but there’s always something, right? We heard the heartbeat,” she smiled and pointed at the paper in Mary Beth’s hand.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

Mary Beth considered the image. The technology had not been very widespread when she was expecting the boys, but she remembered her first ultrasound for Alice, lying in the dark, staring at a screen and at the reassuring beat of her tiny heart. The thought alone was enough to make her tear up again.

She cleared her throat. “And how are you feeling? Are you nauseous a lot?” She gestured towards the stalls.

Chris gave her a wry smile. "Let’s just say whoever invented the term ‘morning sickness’ forgot about the rest of the day. I’m tired from the moment I get out of bed, and I have to pee all the damn time. Not to mention these.” Chris indicated her breasts. “And listen, uh- I know that I’m not so easy to work with right now. I’m sorry about that. I just can’t help it sometimes – I don’t know, stuff is really getting to me.”

“Goes with the territory,” Mary Beth smiled. She was relieved that her suspicions hadn’t been confirmed and would gladly put up with Chris’s moods for nine whole months if it meant that her partner would have a healthy baby in the end.

“And you’re going to feel a lot better in the second trimester,” she added. “For now, if you can, eat a couple of crackers in bed before you get up. Settles your stomach.”

“That’s what David has been telling me. He bought all these books. And seven different brands of crackers.”

Mary Beth could see David schlepping home dozens of books and immersing himself in the subject. He had been great with Alice when they had had Chris and him over for dinner after her CCRB hearing, and she was overjoyed that he would get the chance to be a father. He would be wonderful at it.

“What did he say when you told him?”

“It was great. His whole face lit up. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t stopped grinning since. And he is very … invested. He insists on taking a photo of me every week. You know, for- for a baby album or something. Can you believe it?” Chris’s cheeks grew flushed as she told Mary Beth about this intimate detail.

“That’s so sweet. Sounds like he is taking good care of you."

"The best. You know David. He’s wonderful. A little suffocating maybe. If it were up to him, I wouldn’t even be allowed to unload the dishwasher. But he means well."

"I remember what Harve was like before we had Harvey Junior. So protective. He would’ve loved to handcuff me to the sofa for nine months.”

"Really, you should see David. He’s so happy. This is everything he has ever wanted. He makes all these plans. And I mean _plans_. The kid is only as big as a prune, and he is talking about college.”

"Oh, Chris, let him. He’s excited. Heck, _I’m_ getting excited, and it’s not even my baby.” Indeed, Mary Beth could feel her shock and surprise waning, making room for pure elation.

But Chris sighed and looked at her lap. “I don’t know. David is so sure that everything is going to be okay. But I just can’t relax about it. The doctor says I’m fine, and the baby is the right size, and there is a heartbeat, and everything looks like it should. But I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I mean – I’m going to be 43 years old, Mary Beth. Every little thing that hurts, hell – every single time I go to the bathroom, I think: ‘Maybe this is it. It’s going to go wrong now.’ I really want to be happy. But the truth is, I’m scared out of my mind half the time.” She blew out a shaky breath.

Mary Beth took another look at the ultrasound picture. She remembered what it felt like to allow yourself to build a connection to the tiny life inside, to love this promise of a person, knowing full well that you were running the risk of having your heart broken into a thousand pieces because there were never any guarantees.

“I know ‘don’t worry’ is so easy to say, Chris. But when I was pregnant, I tried to trust the process. I think you don’t really have a choice. Everything that goes on in there,” she paused and gestured at Chris’s abdomen, “you can’t do a single thing about any of it. You just have to let it take its course.”

Chris slid one of her hands under her sweater. “I know. But it’s hard to accept. Not being in control.”

“Have you told Samuels? That you’re pregnant? At least he can keep you off stuff that you shouldn’t be on.”

“Yeah. The first and only time I ever did the responsible thing.” She snorted. “He almost choked on his Danish. I guess I should have said something to you too. But it was still so early, and I was afraid I would jinx it somehow.”

A couple of observations from the past few weeks suddenly made a lot more sense. The Lieutenant had been uncharacteristically soft on Chris, his second whip, even when she came in late, left early, or shot her mouth off in the squad room.

“It’s your baby, your decision. Really, it’s fine,” Mary Beth assured her.

With Alice, she, too, had held off on telling her colleagues, including Christine. It had felt right to keep the existence of their miracle baby between Harvey and herself for as long as possible.

“Okay.” Chris sounded relieved. “Like I said, I’m happy you know. It’s hard enough with the guys, but at least I don’t share a bathroom with them.”

“What about AA? Your meetings? Are they helpful?”

Chris cleared her throat. “I was really scared of telling Jo. What I’m doing here is not exactly recommended, I guess. So much change in such a short time, you know? But she was really good about it. Supportive. And there are others who have done it. I mean who had a baby after …”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but Mary Beth knew what she was getting at.

“That’s good. Hey, isn’t there this saying in AA? God grant me the- what was it? Something about not controlling everything." 

“Almost." Chris smiled and began to recite: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

“That’s the one. Maybe you’ll feel better if you focus on what you _can_ do? You know, eat right, get enough sleep, don’t overdo it at work. The rest is magic. Or fate. Or God. Or whatever you want to call it. Remember with Alice? It was barely a year after the cancer, and they told me all about how everything was ‘high-risk’. But I don’t know. I wanted to believe that she would stick around. And she did. What I’m saying is that I think it’s more than okay for you to have faith in yourself here, in your body, and in your beautiful baby. If there’s anybody who deserves to have this, it’s you.”

Mary Beth handed the ultrasound picture back to Chris, who swallowed thickly and looked at the image intently as she spoke. “Yeah, faith. I’m still working on that. David probably has enough for all three of us.”

“Then lean on him more. Tell him how you feel. Let him be there for you. You’re not going to want to let him off too easy, anyway. Once the big day comes, you’ll know what I mean.” Mary Beth raised an eyebrow at her partner, only half joking.

Chris shot her a knowing grin. “David wants to sign us up for Lamaze classes.”

“Well, you’re an expert already from when you were the backup for Alice, so what can go wrong?”

“True. I think I still have that stopwatch somewhere.” Chris paused before continuing almost shyly. “I was thinking that maybe- you’d want to be the backup this time?”

Mary Beth felt a huge smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’d be more than happy to. When should I clear my calendar?”

“Around October 29th. I think classes start in August.”

“Ooh, maybe you’ll have a Halloween baby.”

Chris furrowed her brow and let her voice drop. “Let’s hope not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't help myself, I want to see Chris happy. :')


	3. Chapter 3

Ella has finished drinking and stares intently in the direction of Alice and Mary Beth while Chris holds her on her knees and pats her back, trying to get her to burp. Eventually she succeeds, and Alice, who is still sitting on Mary Beth’s lap, erupts into giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Mary Beth asks and tickles Alice’s sides, making her laugh harder.

“You think that was a good one?” Chris winks at Alice conspiratorially, and Alice nods eagerly. “Yeah, me too,” Chris agrees.

Growing up with two older brothers, Alice is no stranger to body noises, and to the brand of humor that goes along with some of them. Naturally, Chris can also appreciate a good burp, and not only because it means that Ella will hopefully not get a bellyache.

The relative ease with which Chris inhabits so many different roles has always fascinated Mary Beth. There is probably nothing Chris wants more than to be ‘one of the guys’. But when the mood strikes, she has no trouble getting in touch with her femininity, either. She is working class in her loyalties, yet upper crust in many of her tastes. Her politics are conservative, but her career aspirations make her a pioneer.

“You’ve got a real gift there, sweet pea.” Chris rubs Ella’s back, and Ella shrieks excitedly before burping one more time. Only now, some of what she just drank comes back up, too, and spit-up runs down her chin and over Chris’s hand.

Alice leans forward for a better look at the situation.

“It’s just a little milk, that’s okay,” Chris explains calmly as she wipes Ella’s face and her hand with a burp cloth. “That happens sometimes.” She lifts Ella into a more upright position and nuzzles her cheek. “Right? Because you’re always so hungry.”

Ella is unperturbed and begins to vocalize cheerfully.

“I think she’s trying to say ‘happy birthday’.” Chris waggles her eyebrows at Alice, who loves this, of course.

“I’m four.” She shows Chris and Ella two fingers on each of her hands.

“Four already!” Chris gasps. “Did you hear that, Ella? Alice is such a big girl.”

“Yes!” Mary Beth can hear the proud smile in Alice’s voice as she snuggles back into her embrace.

For all that she used to claim not to be good with kids, Chris sure knows how to talk to them. And she has always known, long before Ella.

Years ago, when they worked the taxicab murder case and Michael ran away from home because Mary Beth lied to him about not driving the cabs anymore and he showed up at Chris’s loft late at night, she was the one who said all the right things, who calmed him down and on whose sofa he fell asleep.

Also, the countless child witnesses they have worked with over the years. Especially teenage girls usually take much more easily to Chris. Maybe because they sense that she knows all about the heavy armor many of them carry.

“Yeah, you’re my big girl.” With a kiss to the back of her head, Mary Beth hugs Alice close. In moments like this, she wants time to stop. If it did, right here, right now, it would be forever Chris and her, the two of them, and their little girls.

Less than six years ago, she wouldn’t have dared to hope for a third child. Heck, she couldn’t even reasonably assume that she would be around long enough to see her boys grow up. Nothing worse than the idea of Harvey Jr. and Michael having to watch her die.

But here she is. Lucky. So, so lucky. To have found the lump when she did. That Harvey and Chris forced her to face the music. That she got to keep her breast. Lucky that the cancer hasn’t returned to finish the job.

Not that she can be sure that it won’t. And not that she isn’t afraid – every month before she examines herself, every year when she goes for her mammogram, every time she hears a story about somebody’s mother, aunt, sister, cousin, wife, friend, neighbor, college roommate.

There isn’t much she can do about it, though. The worry has become ambient noise, high-pitched and unnerving on some days, barely above a hum on others.

Yes, getting pregnant less than a year into remission was dangerous, and against the advice of every single one of her doctors. Her own stubborn crusade to let the universe know that Mary Beth Lacey refuses to take no for an answer.

‘Joan of Arc lives!’, as Detective Dupnik would say.

And indeed, she does. One day at a time. One more thing she and Chris have in common now.

“Mommy! Too tight!” Alice complains and fidgets in Mary Beth’s lap, bringing her out of her reverie.

“Sorry, baby. I just love you so much.” She presses another kiss to Alice’s head and then lets her go.

“Love you too,” Alice mumbles as she climbs off the bed. At four years old, she isn’t the least bit sentimental. And why would she be – for her, most of life’s joys are yet to come.

Right now, it looks like Alice is on a mission: She makes a show of sauntering over to Chris in the rocking chair, all the while looking inquisitively up at Ella, who flails her arms and makes gurgling noises. Then she turns back towards Mary Beth and switches on her brightest grin.

“Ella says she wants cake.”

Grinning like that, Alice looks so much like Harvey when he has had a good idea or when he believes that he has gained some new insight into one of his conspiracy theories.

At the sight of her daughter, visibly excited by her little scheme, Mary Beth feels a smile of her own play around the corners of her mouth. “Alice, I don’t think Ella wants to have cake. She just ate.”

Alice rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, then shifts her gaze to Chris, clearly trying to enlist her support. Mary Beth’s and Chris’s eyes meet above Alice’s head. No words are needed.

“Your mom is right, Alice. Ella isn’t hungry right now.” Chris manages to keep a straight face as she pauses for dramatic effect. “But I think she wants you to have her piece of cake. Right? What do you say, Ella?” She rubs Ella’s belly, eliciting happy coos.

“Yup, definitely. Mary Beth? Can Alice have some more cake?”

“Mommy, can I?” Alice chimes in, hopeful.

“Well, alright. It’s your birthday, so why not. Go downstairs and get Daddy to help you, okay? I think he’s out in the yard. Tell him I said you’re allowed.”

Alice doesn’t have to be told twice. She races off into the hallway and down the stairs, shouting at the top of her lungs. “Daddy!!”

Without a doubt, Alice is the feistiest of her three children. Both boys were boisterous and playful when they were her age, but not nearly as imaginative and downright sly where little ruses and games were concerned. Maybe it’s because Alice is the youngest and has had older role models. Or it’s just her nature, Harvey’s kooky streak coming through.

“I’m afraid of what she’ll come up with when she’s older and wants to go to a party or see her boyfriend or something.”

“Good luck.” Chris raises her eyebrows and adjusts her hold on Ella, turning her around in her arms and cradling her against her shoulder. “Oh, I could tell you stories about when I was living with Charlie.” Her voice has that dreamy cadence it always gets when she recalls her glory days. Roaming free all over the city, testing her limits in Catholic school, learning how to play poker – and how to drink.

“How about we save those for another day, huh?”

“Sure.” Chris chuckles. “On the way here, we went over the bridge. Do you remember?”

Mary Beth will never think of Queensboro Bridge and _not_ remember.

“Of course. How could I forget that? Watching you hurl yourself in front of a speeding truck while I tried to not to have a baby right then and there.”

“Alice Christine has quite the birthday story.”

“That’s true. And now she’s four years old already. How is that even possible? Where does the time go?” She shakes her head furiously. Birthdays put her in such a peculiar mood.

“I guess they do grow up fast.”

In Chris’s arms, Ella has grabbed the neckline of her mother’s blouse with one of her little hands and Chris fumbles to get her to release the fabric. What Mary Beth would give to hold baby Alice like that one more time. Nurse her, inhale her sweet baby scent, rock her to sleep.

“You’ll see. Today she’s a little baby, and before you know it, she’ll be out of the house.”

Chris snorts softly. “Shut up. I can’t even imagine leaving her with the nanny.”

“Yeah. That’s hard.”

There was never any question as to whether Mary Beth would return to work after Alice’s birth. They need the stable income and the benefits, not to mention her pension down the line, so she will put in her twenty years. Still, handing her ten-week-old baby over to Muriel on her first day back was almost physically painful.

Of course, Chris and David don’t have to worry about money the same way she and Harvey do. But Mary Beth knows that Chris is aiming for the 1990/91 Lieutenant’s Exam. She is still determined to command her own squad in the near future, and to climb further up the ladder from there. The only way to make any of that happen is for her to return to work sooner rather than later.

Chris already surprised everybody at the 14th by deciding to take not only the standard maternity leave, but an additional twelve-week leave of absence. When she returns in March, it will have been almost eight months since she was last out on the street. It’s high time for her, at least if one were to ask the brass at One Police Plaza.

The old boys may have to stick to rules and regulations and tick off name after name on promotion lists. But anybody who believes that opportunities for advancement are afforded on the basis of merits alone is kidding themselves. The ‘human factor' wields considerable influence, decades-old routines and prejudices don’t just disappear overnight.

In the NYPD, having a family is something that men tend to be rewarded for, with slaps on the back and plum assignments, whereas in women it seems to be viewed as a liability: something that makes them weaker and more unreliable cops, when in reality it’s pretty much the opposite. At least the way Mary Beth sees it.

Growing three little humans inside of her body and loving her precious, dependent babies was thoroughly humbling. Raising the boys and now Alice, juggling two careers and a household and somehow also managing to stay in love has felt almost impossible more often than not.

But if anything, the challenges have made her more resourceful. Helped her become closely attuned to the needs and motivations of other people, big and small. Have given her nerves of steel. She really can’t imagine a world where that would make somebody a worse cop.

Chris was already a superior police officer before the baby. Smart, tough, and ambitious, she didn’t rank high on the Sergeant’s Exam for nothing. It used to be 'all cop, all the time' with her. But the singular focus that made Chris an effective cop was also her greatest weakness. She could get so hung up on perceived slights and provocations and her own ego and stupid Department politics that she would lose sight of what matters. What is worth risking your health or your life for, and what really isn’t.

Maybe the ‘distraction’ of family life will help her find the equilibrium that has long eluded her. Ironically, it might be just what it takes to put Chris over the top as a professional. Provided the powers that be give her the chance.

“Don’t get me wrong, I look forward to coming back,” Chris says, stroking Ella’s downy red hair. “I really do. And I want her to see me working. You know? Doing what I love. It’s just … I guess I didn’t think it would be this tough.”

“I know how you feel, Sergeant.”

Chris smiles and continues to run her fingers through Ella’s hair as the little girl slowly falls asleep, her head lolling gently against Chris’s shoulder.

“You know what I thought when Alice was born, and I came in to meet her? ‘This is as close as you’re ever going to get.’ Did I ever tell you that? I wasn’t sad, or jealous, or anything like that. It was just something that came to my mind.”

When Mary Beth thinks back to that evening, she remembers Alice’s tiny hands and feet, her bald head, her big blue eyes. How touched Chris was when she revealed Alice Christine’s middle name.

Proud and happy and in love with her new baby, it never occurred to her to think about what that moment might have felt like for Chris, who was almost 40 and single at the time, who had always been ambivalent about whether or not she even wanted a family of her own, but who didn’t like decisions to be taken out of her hands, either by other people or biology.

“And here you are now.”

“Who would have thought, right?”

***

The morning of October 24th, 1989 was sunny and unseasonably cold.

Mary Beth had just peeled off her gloves and was about to shrug out of her coat when the phone on her desk rang. She reached for the receiver with one arm still in the sleeve.

“14th squad, Detective Lacey.”

“Mary Beth? This is David!”

She could hear in his voice what this phone call was about, and her heart began to beat faster.

“David!”

“She’s here, Mary Beth. It’s a girl.” He sounded beside himself with joy.

She tightened her hold on the receiver and let her other arm slide out of the sleeve. The coat fell to the floor and bunched around her feet, but she didn’t care.

A girl.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. A girl. Congratulations! Are you at the hospital? How is Chris?”

“She’s okay. Exhausted. We’ve been here since yesterday afternoon, and she finally came this morning. It was … Chris was great.”

Mary Beth breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad. And how are you?”

She heard David swallow. “I’m- I just … I’m the luckiest guy, Mary Beth. I’m so happy that they’re both alright.” Now it sounded like he was about to cry.

Mary Beth felt her chest tighten as well and nodded silently, which of course David couldn’t see, so she forced out a simple “Me too.”

He cleared his throat. “Come by later today, okay? Chris said to tell you that.”

“I’ll be there with bells on. Give my love to Chris and to your little girl.”

They hung up, and Mary Beth sank onto her chair, her thoughts still with the new parents.

Her memories of the first moments after Alice’s birth were a blur, a collection of images and sensations. The sense of utter peace that overcame her as soon as everything was over. The weight of Alice’s warm, slippery body. Harvey’s face next to hers as they took in the sight of their brand-new daughter.

Then she caught Victor’s eye across the room and snapped back to the here and now.

“The baby?” he asked.

Mary Beth nodded and wiped her eyes. “It’s a girl.”

“Alright!” Victor punched the air. “And they’re okay?”

His level of concern was endearing, really. And it was more than the friendly interest of a colleague, too. Victor was waiting for his own first child to be born, with Ginger’s due date a mere three weeks after Chris’s.

At first, Chris had been annoyed at how excited and nosy Victor was. But then they learned why, and she came around and began to indulge him – up to a certain point at least. She drew a hard line at questions about her plans for the birth, or whether she wanted to breastfeed.

Mary Beth nodded again. “I’m going to see them this afternoon.”

Victor leaned back in his chair with a smile. “Say hi from me and Ginger, and congratulations.”

“I will.”

“And bring the numbers!”

Before she could say anything, Coleman’s voice boomed from behind her. Apparently, the morning briefing in Lieutenant Samuels’s office was finished. “Did I hear something about a new baby?”

“Cagney had a girl,” Victor said.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A satisfied smile spread across Coleman’s face as he walked past Mary Beth’s desk and stood next to Victor’s.

Of course, Coleman had started taking bets for the requisite quinella as soon as it had become public knowledge that a Cagney baby was on the way, and everybody had picked their jaws up off the floor.

“Are you going to see the happy family?” Coleman asked, inclining his head in Mary Beth’s direction.

“Sergeant Coleman, I don’t-” Even though it was not about her child this time, Mary Beth still found it in poor taste to bet on pregnancy and babies. It felt like tempting fate and she refused to aid and abet such practices in any way.

“Come on,” Victor said. “It’s all in good fun. Look at it as a celebration.”

“And an opportunity to make money.” Mary Beth shot back, fixing her gaze on Coleman, who raised his hands innocently.

“Hey, I’m just giving the people what they want. It’s not like Cagney didn’t go in on Isbecki’s kid.”

That was true.

Chris and Victor were both extremely competitive, and seeing as the other person’s baby quinella was the only one that they were permitted to take part in, they had started to try and wheedle relevant information out of each other. In particular, they got creative trying to come up with trick questions to get the other person to reveal their baby’s sex. But as far as Mary Beth knew, neither one of them had ever let anything slip.

And who cared, really. Boy, girl – as long as everybody was happy and healthy. That was the most important thing.


End file.
